


Travel Requisition

by phipiohsum475



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Consensual Somnophilia, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Fluff, I have also been told to tag this:, M/M, Mild D/s, Public Sex, Rough Sex, cute as hell, medical conference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:27:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3636690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phipiohsum475/pseuds/phipiohsum475
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim kept his pace, slow and leisurely. John tried to push back faster, but Jim kept tight to his rhythm. John growled. This wouldn’t do; he needed to be ravaged, but he knew exactly how to fix that. “Bloody hell, Jim, you like hearing yourself talk. Why don’t you shut up, and fuck me properly?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Travel Requisition

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [HumsHappily](http://archiveofourown.org/users/HumsHappily) for the beta!

Jim rolled over and grasped the warm form of his sleeping doctor. He snuggled into the tanned flesh between the shoulders, and slowly pushed John onto his belly. The doctor, who could awaken at the sound of any loud noise, was often oblivious to the slow soft touches with which Jim liked to wake him.

Jim ran soft fingers down John's spine, and let them dip and rise with the natural curves of John's body. He slowly traced the curve of John's arse, then carefully with quiet, slow movements, let his fingers dip deeper into the crevice, feeling the slickness of the last night's activities. Jim grinned, wanting and thirsty, eager to consume John yet again. He might be insatiable, but John was always willing to go along. Jim circled the tight pucker, and smirked when his digits slipped in with little resistance.

John moaned, and Jim could sense the electric charge in the air that came with John's consciousness.

" _ Jesus _ , Jim," he gasped, "What a way to wake a bloke up!"

"I could stop, if you'd like," Jim offered, voice lilting with a lyrical tone, but didn't cease the drag and push of his fingers into John's lovely, albeit slightly abused, hole.

"Don't you dare!" John ordered, shifting to accommodate his growing erection.

Jim grinned, climbed between John's legs, lifted up the doctor’s hips, and with one long steady push, sheathed himself inside John.

“Fuck, Johnny, you are so damned greedy. Look at you swallow me up; it’s beautiful,” Jim praised as John groaned through the stretch of Jim’s intrusion.

John caught his breath and pushed back against Jim, anxious for more. He wanted all of it, harder, faster, rougher.

“That’s it, I love watching you, thrusting up against me, begging for more, so desperate and eager.”

Jim kept his pace, slow and leisurely. John tried to push back faster, but Jim kept tight to his rhythm. John growled. This wouldn’t do; he needed to be ravaged, but he knew exactly how to fix that. “Bloody hell, Jim, you like hearing yourself talk. Why don’t you  _ shut up _ , and fuck me properly?”

Jim snarled and bent over John’s back. He fisted his hand tight into the blond hairs until John’s cry nearly slipped out his throat. Jim snapped his head back and hissed in his ear, “You mouthy little shit. You want to fucking test me? I will fuck you raw, break you into pieces, leave you sobbing and sniveling before I’m done.”

John answered with a frantic whimper.

“Good,” Jim sneered, and pushed John’s head down with the one hand, gripped John’s hip with the other, and began to pound viciously into him. Gasps and sharp whines escaped John as Jim pistoned ruthlessly past the tender rim, violent and selfish. Jim was chasing his own release, using John for little more than the well lubricated hole he was.

John tried to shift, to find any friction for his own cock, and was rewarded with a stinging slap on the arse.

“Don’t you dare fucking move, you wanton little slut. You wanted this, you think I don’t know that? You want to be used and degraded, and I’ll be damned if I don’t make you feel every second of it.” Jim didn’t stop, just pressed further down on John’s head until the blond was half buried in the mattress, gasping for breath.

Jim’s pace grew erratic, and finally, he released his tight restraint on John’s hair, and with hands on both hips, plundered brutally into John’s abused flesh. His fingers dug tightly into John’s sides, and John flailed, trying to gain any traction he could by grabbing the bed. Jim snarled wordlessly, and John immediately let go, allowing his body to be manipulated in any direction Jim so chose.

Within moments, John felt the pulsing of Jim’s cock as he emptied himself deep into John’s arse. John felt warmth flood him, and he felt relief that Jim had finally come. He slumped, hips still high in the air, waiting for Jim to return the favor.

Jim instead pulled out and watched as the swollen hole twitched and quivered. He circled the rim with a single finger again, like he had before, and John nearly jumped as the raw flesh stung.

“Please, Jim,” John pleaded, letting the brunet know he was still achingly hard and wanting.

Jim chuckled darkly, and threatened, “Oh no, Johnny boy, you are still mine to fuck and exploit. If you haven’t sobbed and cried and begged, we are nowhere  near done.”

John turned to look, but another burning slap stopped him.

“I might be good for now, but we’ve got time. I need to make sure you’re ready when I need you to be.”

Jim slid off the bed, and John was only dimly aware of how ridiculous he looked, arse up, head down, alone on the bed, but his arousal was far too distracting for him to care. He did take note when the bed dipped down again, and he felt Jim settle back between his spread thighs.

“Good, didn’t move a bit,” Jim noted, “I would have had to punish you for that.”

John felt Jim’s fingers glide through the ejaculate dripping down his thigh, and press the viscous evidence back into him, with three thin digits. John groaned, his cock throbbing and neglected, but pleasure dancing like fairy lights across the rest of his nerves. Something warm and hard, too hard, began to breach him, and John belatedly realized Jim was sliding a plug, a new one by the feel of it, to nestle inside him.

“You’ll wear this today,” Jim insisted, “And only I am allowed to remove it.” Jim rotated it until John let out an involuntary cry as it brushed his prostate, “Do you understand?”

John nodded, panting hard, “Yes, Jim.”

Jim beamed, suddenly golden soft like sunshine and kittens.

“Alright, John, it’s time to get up! Big day today!”

-o-

John held back all but a minute limp, his arse sore from Jim’s brutality and the plug awkwardly shifting inside him, reminding his half hard cock on every other step that it still wept desperately to come. He felt the slightly damp fabric of his pants, and hope it wouldn’t leak through to his trousers, though his suit was black and could hide most of the embarrassment.

He walked towards the building, clearly a new, shiny endeavor, when Jim appeared as if by magic. John startled, and the plug shifted against his prostate as he halted, biting back a moan. He restrained himself, then turned to Jim, “What are you doing here?”

“Why, I’m coming with you,” Jim answered obviously, though it wasn’t obvious at all.

“This is a medical research conference, you’ll be bored out of your mind,” John glared at him. He would do as Jim instructed, but to be stuck in a conference, squirming with the pressure of the plug for eight hours would be torture enough without Jim there to goad him. “And plus, you haven’t registered.”

John realized to whom he was speaking, and sighed, “You’re registered, aren’t you?”

“Of course, Dr. Watson, I  _ always _ play by the rules.”

John rolled his eyes as they reached the registration table. “John Watson,” he told the facilitator. He was given a name tag, a binder, and a bag of pretty, useless marketing materials. He looked to Jim.

Jim beamed his earnest, fake smile, and said, “James Adams.”

John tilted his head and stared; curious.

“Oh!” The rotund Dr. Hillard looked thrilled, “Dr. Adams! I’m so glad to meet you! Are you all ready for your presentation?”

John’s eyes grew wide.

Jim affected a false laugh, and nodded, “As ready as I’m going to be, Patty!”

He nodded, thanked her, and they walked away.

“You’re  presenting ?”

“Research statistics. I am a doctor, you know.”

John scoffed, “You’re not a doctor, I had to tell you how to stitch my shoulder last month.”

Jim showed John his name tag, which read, “James Adams, PhD.”

“That’s not you,” John protested.

Jim looked affronted, and held his hand to his heart like a Southern Belle, “You wound me Dr. Watson.” He dropped his voice back to normal, and shrugged, “As good as. Moriarty may be my given name, but I knew early on that I’d need an alias. Or five. So all my education is under James Adams.”

“So that PhD is yours? In what?”

“Mathematical Statistics.”

John stopped and stared at him again.

Jim looked exasperated, “Jesus Christ, Johnny! Is it that hard to believe I’m clever?”

“No, no, God, you’re brilliant! It’s just hard to imagine you doing something  not evil genius-y” John chuckled.

Jim leaned in, and whispered in his ear, “Oh, I promise, there are  very evil things I can do with that.”

-o-

John felt on edge for the first few hours, until Jim did absolutely nothing to entice or tease him. He shifted uncomfortably, and his cock stayed just a bit hard the entire time, but once his anticipation died down, he was able to enjoy the conference and pay close attention. Just before lunch, Jim was called up to present. John was deeply intrigued. To be selected to present, Jim would have had to submit a presentation, or been invited, either way, his qualifications must have been fantastic. He couldn’t wait to see what he could learn.

Jim smiled, glasses over his face, a kind, friendly grin, with a complete overhaul in his gait and body language that seemed to change his identity entirely. John was fascinated, and watched raptly as an entirely different man, Dr. James Adams, introduced himself.

“Let’s begin today by discussing how statistics has contributed to medical research,”  Dr. Adams began, and aimed his arm, clicker in hand, to change the slide. The moment the slide changed, John almost shrieked. His body jolted before he could recognize the sensation. He coughed to cover his panting, and heard an almost imperceptible hitch in Jim’s voice; his excitement leaking through the façade.

_ Oh, fuck _ , John realized, as the sensations continued, sending electric stimulation throughout his body,  _ The plug vibrated . _

John was never so grateful for the dimness of the room, needed for the audience to see the presentation, and he finally understood why Jim had insisted on sitting at the back. John held tight onto the table in front of him, cock growing quickly against his pants.

Jim finished his briefing on the history of statistics, and clicked the presentation to the next slide. The plug ceased it’s vibrations, and John slumped in relief. He took deep breaths, willing his erection to subside, and failing miserably. The point was moot, as Jim moved on, and the vibrations recommenced with the new slide. John rubbed himself through his pants, hoping to ease the pressure, but only frustrated himself further. As Jim flipped through the slides, vibrations kicking on and off with each one, John’s will began to falter. His body was alight with over-stimulated pleasure, the only thing keeping him seated the occasional glance from Jim, with a telling stare. To leave would be signing up for punishment, accepting whatever Jim might have in store. And Jim was terribly creative.

John looked up at the clock, there were still ten minutes left to Jim’s talk, and he couldn’t take it anymore. His cock was rock hard and thick in his slacks, and John finally had to unzip his trousers to release himself. He huffed with mild relief, but found he couldn’t let himself go. Just the warmth of his hand, the sizzle of flesh against hardened flesh, and John held tight and pumped once.

He bit back a gasp, and gave in. His hand was dry, and he couldn’t go fast anyways, but it wouldn’t matter. He was so terribly keyed up; it wouldn’t last long. He felt the gentle slide of his foreskin over the glans, and stroked himself as discreetly as he was able. He kept himself on edge, waiting, knowing exactly the moment he needed and finally, Jim completed his presentation.

“Any questions?” he asked with a smirk, and with the last click of the slide, the vibrator that had previously been stationary, tight in John’s arse, vibrated at twice the speed and began to rotate, pressing rhythmically against his prostate. A groan escaped, and he coughed loudly to cover his mortification. He stopped thrusting into his fist, the pleasure too close; the time not quite right. Goose flesh rose all over his body, the hairs stood up on the back of his neck, and he pinched his eyes tight, hoping to stave off the sensation.

John lost all sense of focus; time. He heard none of the questions, and was only peripherally aware of Jim’s voice answering.

Suddenly, the room burst into applause, and John recognized it as the moment he needed. His hand flew over his cock, and he came thickly, panting hard, using the cocktail napkin from his drink to keep his slacks clean. Pent up pleasure tingled through his fingers, down to his toes, and his whole body drooped in satisfied exhaustion.

He fell back, and nearly wept with joy as the vibrations stopped. He sighed with his whole body, then tucked his cock back into his pants. Come covered his left land, but he let his right hand drift to ensure there was no undesired wetness on his slacks. He took in another deep breath, and felt Jim slip in the seat beside him.

Jim looked down and grabbed John’s wrist. He saw the evidence of John’s self gratification on his hand, and lowered his voice “My, Dr. Watson, I had no idea you would enjoy my talk that much. Lick it off.”

John gulped, but didn’t argue. He raised his hand to his lips, and tongued off the thick white ejaculate off his hand. His taste was tangy and the texture awkward, but shivers descended down his spine as he obeyed Jim’s command. As he did so, he wondered if Jim would punish him for his indiscretion, or if he’d intended this all along.

-o-

As they filed out after lunch, John’s discomfort was no longer dulled by the fog of orgasm, and his limp returned. Jim tugged him out of line for the upcoming facility tour, speaking lowly in his ear, “Let’s get that plug out of you.” John followed, the anticipation of relief spread wide across his face. He might be sore for a few days, but at least he’d be able to focus on the rest of the conference.

They wandered down and turned left into an empty hallway. Jim picked the lock to an office door, and they snuck in, locking the door behind them. The office was large, and a large rectangle table was right in front for meetings, nearly eclipsing the desk hidden behind it.

Jim pulled John into a heated kiss, searing with intent and passion. Jim bit at John’s lower lip, and John licked back, bunching his hands into Jim’s suit jacket. Jim reached down, grabbing John’s arse and pulling it towards him, and John gasped as the plug brushed against his prostate yet again. He pulled back, “Christ, Jim, you’ve got to get this out of me.”

Jim chuckled darkly and shrugged off his jacket, and John took a moment to enjoy Jim’s tight, thin body outlined by his waistcoat, bespoke and luxurious. Jim smirked, and demanded, “Against the table, pants and trousers off.”

John obeyed, shedding his clothes quickly, bending over the desk to allow Jim access to remove the toy from his aching and over-sensitive body. He felt Jim’s fingers slide down the curve of his arse, down to the tender flesh of his thighs. John squirmed anxiously as he felt the tug of the vibrator pull against the rawness of his hole. He exhaled, the liberation from his sexual taunting a godsend. He ignored the aching emptiness; knowing that his want to be urgently filled again would only lead to pain and tears.

He braced himself on his elbows, and Jim sank to his knees behind him, massaging his glutes and blowing cool air on the red, irritated skin. John closed his eyes, and sank into the cooling bliss. He felt weak and exhausted as Jim gently cared for him.

Without warning, Jim stood, and with one hand on John’s waist, forced himself into John’s quivering, stinging arse. John howled, but found the sound dampened by Jim’s hand, tight over his mouth. “Shut. Up.” Jim growled and thrust slowly; forcing John to feel every inch of throbbing pain as Jim fucked him raw.

John whined, and Jim gathered up John’s tie, shoving the silk fabric into John’s mouth.

“Do you want them to hear?” Jim snarled, “Maybe you do. Maybe you want them all to see you like this.” Jim held tight to John’s hips as he had that morning, and the dull bruised pain registered, but was immediately replaced with the brutal pace Jim began to set. “A greedy little whore, with a gaping cunt, sloppy wet with come dripping down his thighs?”

John felt his cock stir, despite the chafed ends of his nerves protesting. He knew he’d wanted this, damn near begged for it by goading Jim. At the moment, he couldn’t remember why, and swore he’d never do it again.

Jim rocked harder and the table creaked underneath them. He shoved John down on his chest, with a firm hand between the soldiers and stood on his toes to pound into John without ceasing. Jim growled, “Christ, look at you. You look so fucking good like this. I want everyone to see you this way. What would they say? Doctor, soldier, an upstanding British citizen getting buggered, sodomized,  _ fucked _ by the most notorious criminal mastermind the world has seen. And you love it.”

John moaned, face red and flushed with embarrassment; the truth in Jim’s words setting the picture before his head. His cock only registered the emotion as deeply arousing, and rose rock hard for the second time in as many hours. He both loved and hated that Jim knew every button, every word, every inch of his body and could play him so seamlessly.

“Do you know how I know you love it?” Jim taunted, pulling out the tie before pinning him back down to the table, “Because I’d stop if you asked. You just say the word, Johnny boy, and I’ll stop right now.”

John whimpered, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.  _ Bloody fuck _ , the things Jim could do to him. To stop would be glorious, phenomenal, but to give up, to let Jim win, to accept this weakness would haunt him for months. He bit his lip, “Please. Please, Jim.”

Jim slowed his pace, tilting to drag his glans across John’s prostate, and a tear dripped down John’s cheek as he spasmed in over pleasured pain. “Please, what?”

“Please come. Fuck, Jim, please,  _ please _ come,” John begged. Jim snarled in victory, snapped his hips hard, and John bit through his lip, tasting blood, gripped the table with white fingers, letting the tears stream down his face as his cock throbbed with the arousal of humiliation.

Jim pounded into him, gasping between thrusts, “Told you. You would beg… and sob… before I was through. Do it… again!”

John sobbed, voice choked, “Please Jim, come. Christ, I need it, need you! Fuck, Jim, I need more!”

Jim shuddered, and with several erratic bursts, filled John for the third time since they’d arrived at the hotel the night before. Three times, Jim spilled into John, marking him, claiming him, and John’s legs finally gave out.

Jim draped over John, panting heavily. He slipped out and John weakly whimpered. Jim wiped himself off with a handkerchief, then circled around to check on John. John’s eyes flickered and he took a few moments to focus his attentions on Jim’s face.

Jim chuckled, “You really are gone, aren’t you?”

John gave a sleepy, distant smile and nodded.

“Do you want to come? Or would it be too much?” Jim asked, running his fingers softly through the blond grey hairs.

John tried to shake his head, but found his motion hampered by the desk, so he just muttered, “Too much.”

Jim kissed the top of his head, and dampened the handkerchief under the spout of the water cooler. He tenderly caressed John’s arse, then with deliberate, careful motions, took time to wash the come on John’s thighs. Then he cleaned as deeply into John as he could, using John’s sighs and whines as a guide to keep him comfortable. Satisfied that John was well rinsed, Jim helped him back into his pants and trousers. Once done, he sat in the expensive leather chair, and tugged John into his lap.

John sighed, grimacing slightly as he settled, and buried his face into Jim’s neck.

Jim stroked John’s neck, down his back, and gingerly cupped his arse.

“You’re a bit evil,” John snickered quietly against Jim’s throat.

Jim grinned, kissed John’s forehead, then tipped his face up to kiss the tears from his eyes, “And you’re a bit perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://phipiohsum475.tumblr.com).


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